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LATTER-DAY LOVE SONNETS 



LATTER-DAY 
LOVE SONNETS 




SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY 
BOSTON : MCMVII 




Copyright, igoy, 

By Small, Maynard & Company, 
Incorporated. 



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AUG 19 ««^ 

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The U niv er &ily Press, Cambridge, U. S. A. 




A SONNET ON THE SONNET 

[RANT me tti>ice seven splendid words, 
OMuset 

[(Like JeJt>et pauses on a rosary chains 
Jo tell us "where the aves start again) ; 
\Of these, in each verse, one I mean to use- 
\Like Theseus in the labyrinth — for clues 
To help lost Fancy striving in the brain; 
And, Muse, if thou 7i>ilt still so kindly deign. 
Make my rhymes move by courtly f^os and t^os! 
Oh, pardon, shades of Avon and Vaucluse, 
This rush- light burning ti>hereyour lamps yet shine; 
A sonnet should be like the cygnefs cruise 
On polished waters ; or like smooth old wine. 
Or earliest honey, garnered in May dews — 
And all be laid before some fair lovers shrine I 

Edith M. Thomas. 




PREFACE 

N selecting and arranging this 
anthology the compiler has had in 
mind a double purpose: first, to 
make it as representative as pos- 
sible of the love sonnets of our 
present-day poets, not omitting 
a few of the older generation who are still con- 
tributing to our poetry, and three or four who, 
belonging to the present period, have been cut ofT 
by death prematurely; and second, to group the 
poems as nearly as possible in sequences, in the 
belief that while the intrinsic beauty of the sonnets 
will lose nothing by this arrangement, such a 
thread of apparent connection may enhance the 
reader's interest in the volume- With the simple 
suggestion that the first section includes such 
sonnets as approach their subject in so general 
a manner as to forbid any other arrangement 
than as " songs for a prelude," it is hoped that 
the rapport of the other sections will be easily 
discerned. 

For the inclusion of one unrhymed sonnet and 
another in octosyllabic measure, the compiler 
believes no apology is necessary. Certainly it 
would be difficult to find a sonnet better fitted for a 
vii 



keynote to this collection than Mr. Burton's "The 
Eternal Feminine," and Mr. Lodge's "Perfect 
Peace" not only fits excellently into the sequence, 
but, except in its measure, fulfils the most exacting 
requirements of the sonnet. It may, however, be 
frankly admitted that in one or two instances 
where the purposes of sequence have been served, 
a sonnet has been used which, on its own merit, 
had fallen a little below the general standard; 
and it is much to be regretted that, owing to 
the unwillingness of a few owners of copyright 
to permit reprints, except under conditions which 
seemed impracticable to the publishers, some of 
the younger writers of the day, whose love 
sonnets amply deserve inclusion in such a collec- 
tion, are not represented. 

The following poems are herein printed for the 
first time : "Mortality," by Maud Lyons ; " Love's 
Patience," by Arthur Upson ; " Love's Path," by 
Agnes Lee; and "The Full Hope," by William 
Stanley Braithwaite ; the last having been written 
expressly for this volume. Several other sonnets 
are taken from practically inaccessible sources, 
having been printed only in limited editions 
for private circulation. 

Laurens Maynard. 

• .* 
viu 




ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

HE thanks of the publishers are 
due to the authors whose poems 
appear in this volume, and special 
acknowledgments are hereby given 
to the following publishers for per- 
mission to reprint the copyrighted 
poems specified in the subjoined list. 

Mr. Richard G. Badger: Frederic Fairchild Sherman, ''The 
Love-Letter" (from ''Twelve Sonnets''); Virginia Wood- 
ward Cloud, '*An Old Street'' and "Let Me Not Be Too 
Sure" (from "A Reed by the River") ; Hildegarde Haw- 
thorne, " The Hour " and '* Reward " (from " Poems"). 

The Century Company: Richard Watson Gilder, "Body 
and Soul" (from "The New Day ") ; Marshall Illsley, " Re- 
linquishment " (from "The Century Magazine"). 

Messrs. Dodd, Mead & Company: Paul Laurence Dunbar, 
^' Love " (from " Lyrics of the Hearthside "). 

Messrs. Duffield & Company: George Santayana, 
"Although I Decked a Chamber for My Bride" (from 
" Sonnets and Other Poems"). 

Messrs. D. P. Elder & Company: Irend Hardy, "A 
Bird Sings in My Heart" and " My Heart's Astronomer" 
(from "Poems"). 

The Harvard Advocate: Witter Bynner, "The Ancient 
Lovers." 

Messrs. Harper & Brothers: Helen Hay Whitney, 
"Flower of the Clove" and "With Music" (from "Son- 
nets and Songs"); Curtis Hidden Page, "Her Protest" 
(from " Harper's Magazine "). 

ix 



Messrs. Dana Estes & Company: Frederick Lawrence 
Knowles, ^* Love at Death's Court'' (from '*Love Tri- 
umphant "). 

The Grafton Press: Owen Innsley, ^* Love's Calendar" 
(from '*Love Poems and Sonnets"). 

Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin & Company: Edith M.Thomas, 
*' A Sonnet on the Sonnet" and '' Time " (from '' Shadow, 
land ") ; Florence Earle Coates, " Let Me Believe " (from 
'' Poems ") ; George Cabot Lodge, '* Perfect Peace " 
(from '' The Great Adventure") ; Edward Rowland Sill, " In 
Separation" (from "Poems"); Louise Imogene Guiney, 
*' Friendship Broken" (from "Poems"); Anna Hempstead 
Branch, "Divinity" and "Foreshadowed" (from "The 
Heart of the Road"); Lizette Woodworth Reese, "The 
Old Path" (from " A Handful of Lavender"). 

Messrs. Little, Brown, & Company: Arlo Bates, "Re- 
membrance" (from " Sonnets in Shadowland "). 

Messrs. L. C. Page & Company : Charles G. D. Roberts, 
"Moonlight" (from " Poems "). 

Messrs. G. P. Putnam's Sons : Stephen Henry Thayer, 
"Betrothed" (from "Songs of Sleepy Hollow"); Dora 
Read Goodale, "Confession" (from "Apple Blossoms"). 

Mr. William Marion Reidy : Ernest McGaffey, " Wor- 
ship," "Jealousy," and "In the Fields" (from "Sonnets 
to a Wife"). 

Messrs. Charles Scribner's Sons: Josephine Daskam, 
"At Parting" (from "Poems"); George Cabot Lodge, 
" Tell Me Again " (from " The Song of the Wave "). 

Messrs. Herbert B. Turner & Company : William 
Stanley Braithwaite, *'On a Pressed Flower" (from 
" Lyrics of Life and Love "). 



CONTENTS 



A Sonnet on the Sonnet Edith M. Thomas 



Page V 



The Eternal Feminine 

Love and Life 

Love 

The Gentle Heart 

The Ancient Lovers 

Night on the Sea- Wall 

Time 

Tasso to Leonora 

Mortality 

Death as the Teacher of Love Lore 



Richard Burton . . 
Lloyd Mifflin .... 
Paul Laurence Dunbar 
Frank B. Sanborn . . 



3 
4 

5 
6 

Witter Bynner 7 

Clinton Scollard 8 

Edith M. Thomas 9 

Margaret L. Woods .... 10 

Maud Lyons 11 

Frank T. Marzials .... 12 



II 



First Meeting 

Illumination 

One Autumn Night 

The First Kiss 

Revelation 

" Nature Hath Crowned Thee '* . . 
"I Think You Never Were of Earthly 

Frame" 

The Woman Aphrodite 

Love's Reckoning 

W^orship 

Love's Calendar 

Body and Soul, I 

Body and Soul, II 

The Aftermath 

" Let Me Believe " 

A Bird Sings in My Heart .... 
Juliet and Her Romeo 

xi 



Laurens Maynard 


15 


Sir Gilbert Parker 


16 


Herbert Bashford 


17 


Theodore Watts-Dunton . . 


18 


Hugh McCulloch, Jr. . . 


19 


Edmond Holmes .... 


20 


William Watson .... 


21 


Philip Savage 


22 


Sir Gilbert Parker . . . 


23 


Ernest McGaffey .... 


24 


Owen Innsley 


25 


Richard Watson Gilder . 


26 


Richard Watson Gilder 


27 


Samuel Waddington . . 


28 


Florence Earle Coates . . 


. 29 


Irend Hardy 


. 30 


Richard Le Gallienne . . 


• 31 



The Love-Letter Frederic Fairchild Sherman . 32 

Her Letter Sir Gilbert Parker 33 

A Southern Balcony Frank Dempster Sherman . 34 

Love's Patience Arthur Upson 35 

Dreams George Barlow 36 

A Sea Sonnet Richard Hovey 37 

Betrothed Stephen Henry Thayer . . 38 

Epithalamium Mary E. Richmond .... 39 

Nuptial Sleep . Laurens Maynard 40 

Jealousy Ernest McGaffey 41 

** Tell Me Again" George Cabot Lodge . ... 42 

"All That I Know of Love" . . . Arthur Symons 43 

Completion Hugh McCuUoch, Jr. ... 44 

In the Fields Ernest McGaffey 45 

After Business Hours Richard Hovey 46 

Perfect Peace George Cabot Lodge ... 47 

At Last Arthur Upson 48 

Eternity for Love Warren Holden 49 

Life and Death Edmond Holmes 50 



HI 

An Old Street Virginia Woodward Cloud 

" Your Love Shall be Gain "... Curtis Hidden Pagej . . . 

To Lilith William Carman Roberts . 

Faith and Fate Richard Hovey 

Love's Path Agnes Lee 



53 
54 
55 
56 
57 
Love at Death's Court Frederick Lawrence Knowles 58 

59 
60 



Young Memories Wilfred Scawen Blunt . . 

Regret Arthur Christopher Benson 

** Although I Decked a Chamber for 

My Bride " George Santayana 

"'Why Do I Cling to Thee" . . . Wilfred Scawen Blunt 

In Separation Edward Rowland Sill 

" Love Turns to Hate, They Say " . Arthur Symons . . . 

When Love Dies Philip Savage . . . 

Untimely Love Mathilde Blind . . . 



61 
62 
63 
64 

65 

66 

xii 



IV 

Across the Years . Lloyd Mifflin 

The Assignation Herbert E. Clark .... 

Love's Wisdom Alfred Austin 

At Parting Josephine Daskam . . . 

Relinquishment , Marshall Illsley 

Fare You Well, Joy Josephine Preston Peabody 

Friendship Broken Louise Imogen Guiney . . 

Meeting After Absence and Change Lilla Cabot Perry .... 



69 

70 

71 
72 

73 
74 
75 
76 



Flower of the Clove Helen Hay Whitney 

Penelope Ella Dietz Clymer . . . 

Nocturne Jeannette Bliss Gillespy 

Confession Dora Read Goodale . . 

The Hour Hildegarde Hawthorne . 

Love, Death, and Art A. Mary F. Robinson . 

Divinity Anna Hempstead Branch 

" Oh, Foolish Dream '* A. Mary F. Robinson . 

A Desire Susan Marr Spalding . 

Love's Mastery Edmond Holmes . . . 

Ambition Grace Ellery Channing . 

" As Dreams the Fasting Nun " . . A. Mary F. Robinson . 

" Let Me Not Be Too Sure "... Virginia Woodward Cloud 

Reward Hildegarde Hawthorne . 

Her Protest Curtis Hidden Page . . 

With Music Helen Hay Whitney 

My Heart's Astronomer Irene Hardy 

Surrender Amelie Rives .... 

Foreshadowed Anna Hempstead Branch 

Postponement Florence Brooks , , . 



79 
80 
81 
82 

83 
84 

85 
86 

87 
88 

89 
90 

91 
92 

93 
94 
95 

96 

97 
98 



VI 

Renouncement Alice Meynell 

The Old Path Lizette Woodworth Reese 

• • • 
XIU 



lOI 

102 



Moonlight Charles G. D. Roberts . . . 103 

On a Pressed Flower William Stanley Braithwaite 104 

Remembrances Arlo Bates 105 

A Night Prayer Elizabeth Hale Oilman ... 106 

The Awakening Lucy Lefifingwell Cable . . 107 

The After-Glow Mathilde Blind 108 

Love Lives in Sacrifice Emily Pfeiffer 109 

Loss Mary E. Richmond .... no 



The Full Hope . William Stanley Braithwaite iii 



XIV 



I 




FEMININE 

OREVERshallshe 
beckon. Men may 
prate 

Of custom, fashion, 
change, — still doth 
she call 

|To high endeavour; 
dreams begotten 
thence 

Turn with the day 
To deeds chivalric; 
vows 
Are pledged eternally before this shrine 
Whose taper lights are stars, whose choristers 
Are souls bowed down with Beauty. Years on 
But dim the garments of her worshippers, [years 
The light, the lure, are constant. All too brief 
Is time wherein to follow from afar 
The way of wonder leading down to love. 
Look, at the alley-end she sways and smiles, 
Fresh as a morn-birth, fair as Paradise, — 
Yet ancient as the moaning of the sea. Burton 



"LOVE AND LIFE" 

From the Painting by George Frederick Watts. 

UFFERING and weak, 
what ill has come to thee, 
O piteous Life? Up what 
bloom-barren slope 
Cam'st thou, so deso- 
lately fair, to grope 
Thy perilous way in un- 
voiced agony? 
Behold, Love pleads ! Oh, 
listen to his plea ! 
Be lifted where thy spirit doth aspire, 
For thou hast reached the rose of thy desire — 
Love leading Life from Infelicity. 
O innocent One, masking thy grievous wound 
In touching silence, who shall dare to tell 
The yearning pain — the bitterness profound 
Of tremulous hope that looks through longing eyes 
Made sadder by that smile ineffable. 
And pathos of thine inarticulate cries ? 

Lloyd Mifflin. 




LOVE 

LIFE was mine full of 

i the close concern 

Of many-voiced affairs. 

The world sped fast; 

} Behind me ever rolled a 

[pregnant past. 

I A present came equipped 

with love to learn. 

lArt, science, letters, in 

/their turn. 

Each one allured me with its treasures vast ; 
And I staked all for wisdom, till at last 
Thou cam'st and taught my soul anew to yearn. 
I had not dreamed that I could turn away 
From all that men with brush and pen had wrought ; 
But ever since that memorable day 
When to my heart the truth of love was brought, 
I have been wholly yielded to its sway, 
And had no room for any other thought. 

Paul Laurence Dunbar. 




THE GENTLE HEART 

f Y Heart, forthlooking in 
the purple day, 

I Tell me what sweetest 
image there may'st see, 
Fit to be type of thy dear 

I love and thee ? 
Lo ! here where sunshine 
I keeps the wind away, 
Grew two young violets, — 
humble lovers they, — 
With drooping face to face, and breath to breath. 
They look and kiss and love and laugh at death. 
Yon bluebird singing on the scarlet spray 
Of the bloomed maple in the blithe spring air. 
While his mate answers from the wood of pines, 
And all day long their music ne'er declines; 
For love their labour is and love their care. 
** These pass with day and spring," the true heart 
*' Forever thou wilt love and she be fair." [saith,— 

Frank B. Sanborn. 




THE ANCIENT LOVERS 

HIS was a vigorous place, 
with planted trees, 
With marble figures, and 
a colonnade — 
VV^ith fountains agile as a 
shimmery maid 
Dancing in moonlight. 
This was where the breeze 
Found lovers, happy 
laden with their ease 
Of love. And here to-morrow was to-day, 
To-day was yesterday ; the while decay 
Dragged in from shade to shade its pitted knees. 
No more the fountains dance, but rigid lie 
In mummy-cloth of moss and weeds. And see 
How broken is the ancient stone ! How dead 
The ancient vigour, this its tomb instead 
That was its pleasure-place. Yet by this tree 
Still sit the ancient lovers — you and I. 

Witter Bynner. 




NIGHT ON THE SEA-WALL 

THWART the bay the 
lAnastasia light 
Pencils a golden pathway 
up whose beams 
*One might ascend unto 
i the port of dreams, — 
Some vision-haven in the 
I heart of night. 
In silvery syllables the 
I tides recite 
Their luring lyrics, plaintive old-time themes 
Of days when hither, drawn by gold's red gleams, 
Spain winged her galleons on their far sea-flight 
Now hath the imperial aegis of her power 
Waned as the wasted moon adown the sky ! 
Here all is changed, yet strange doth it befall 
That Love, of yore the monarch of the hour 
When lips to lips make passionate reply, 
Is still the sovereign of the old sea-wall ! 

Clinton ScoUard. 




8 



eI 



TIME 

' IME is no rushing torrent, 
dark and hoarse, 
As thou hast heard from 
bards and sages old; 
Sit here with me (would'st 
thou the truth behold) 
And watch the current hour 
run out its course. 
See how without uproar 
or sullen force 
Glides this slim shadowy rill of atom gold, 
Which, when the last slow guileful grain is told. 
Forever is returned unto its source ! 
This is Time's stream, by whose repeated fall 
The numbered fond ones, since the world was new. 
Loitered as we, unwarned of doom the while ; 
Would 'st think so slender stream could cover all? 
But as we speak, some eddy draws us, too — 
Meseems dim grow thine eyes and dim thy smile! 

Edith M. Thomas. 




TASSO TO LEONORA 

SHALL forget thee — 
yes, I shall forget 
Thee and the Heavens that 
glorify the night. 
Those silver summits 
trembling in the light 
Of the descended moon, 
suns that have set, 
Earth and the shoreless 
waters, all that yet 
Has winged my soul for her tempestuous flight — 
And dreams they send to seek me shall but light 
On some gray stone wreathed with the violet. 
Mingling thy dust with men that knew thee not. 
Of me forgetful then thou 'It not complain. 
And all we were shall be so much forgot 
They who the history of our days rehearse 
Shall call my grief a phantom of the brain, 
Thy name a flower wrought on a poet's verse. 

Margaret L. Woods. 




10 



MORTALITY 

[LITTLE longer dream of 
paradise 

I And bid the sweetness of 
f the time delay, 
I While thou hast heart to 
love ; too soon the ray 
Of sunlight slips from 
I these uncertain skies: 
iMake hopes at ease, and 
fin thy hopes surprise 
A living joy, the blossom of the day. 
Then, as thou art a lover, pause and pray 
That heaven and hell may yet confuse the wise. 
Aye, take thy dream, an opal island set 
In twilight deeps of sheltering mystery — 
If so that love and life in this have met — 
Thine earthly heaven thy paradise to be ; 
Even this last loveliness thou must forget 
When Death shall lay his perfect spell on thee. 

Maud Lyons. 




IX 



DEATH AS THE TEACHER OF 
LOVE LORE 

WAS in mid Autumn, and 
the woods were still. 
A brooding mist from out 
the marshlands lay 
Like age's clammy hand 
upon the day, 
Soddening it ; — and the 
[night rose dark and chill. 
1 1 watched the sere leaves 
(falling, falling, till 
Old thoughts, old hopes, seem'd fluttering too away, 
And then I sighed to think now life's decay. 
And change, and time's mischances. Love might 
Sudden a shadowy horseman, at full speed [kill. 
Spurring a pale horse, passed me swiftly by. 
And mocking shrieked, "Thy love is dead indeed, 
Haste to the burial ! " — With a bitter cry 
I swooned, and wake to wonder at my creed. 
Learning from Death that Love can never die. 

Frank T. Marzials. 




12 



II 



13 




S one red rose within a 
garden fair 

[Blossoms sometimes, and 
o perfection blown 
Amid the wealth of 
flowers stands alone ; 
(For none can with its 
matchless hues compare) 
And coming on the 
beauty unaware 
We watch it enviously where it was grown, 
Yet hesitate to pluck and make our own 
So rich a bud of loveliness so rare ; — 
E'en so amid a throng of maidens sweet, [grace 
Whose fairness seemed when matched beside thy 
As light of stars before the queenly moon, 
Thou stood'st when first I gazed upon thy face ; 
And though I dared not hope so great a boon, 
With eager longing quick my pulses beat ! 

Laurens Maynard. 




ILLUMINATION 

S one would stand who 
saw a sudden light 
Flood down the world, 
and so encompass him, 
And in that world 
illumined Seraphim 
Brooded above and 
gladdened to his sight ; 
So stand I in the flame 
of one great thought, 
That broadens to my soul from where she waits. 
Who, yesterday, drew wide the inner gates 
Of all my being to the hopes I sought. 
Her words come to me like a summer-song, 
Blown from the throat of some sweet nightingale; 
I stand within her light the whole day long. 
And think upon her till the white stars fail : 
I lift my head toward all that makes life wise. 
And see no farther than my lady's eyes. 

Sir Gilbert Parker. 




i6 



ONE AUTUMN NIGHT 

k AN r forget that glorious 
autumn night, 
[So full of joyous pain, 
[when you and I 
Stood on the shore 
beneath^a cloudless sky, 
And watched the moon, 
all drenched with holy light, 
Sail slowly up, and toss 
a veil of white 
Across the heaving sea ? — when waves rode by 
And pressed broad palms upon the rocks, to try 
And bear away the rough stone from our sight ? 
Ah no ! 'twas then I spoke to you of love, — 
My secret which you long ere that had guessed ; 
'T was then I first knew passion's fiery heat 
And kissed your cheek, your lips, while high above 
A great star shook, and in its burning breast. 
As in my own, a red heart beat and beat. 

Herbert Bashford. 




17 



THE FIRST KISS 

F only in dreams may 
man be fully blest, 
Is heaven a dream ? Is 
she I clasped a dream? — 
Or stood shehere even now 
where dewdrops gleam 
And miles of furze shine 
golden down the West ? 
I seem to clasp her still — 
still on my breast 

Her bosom beats — I see the blue eyes beam; — 

I think she kissed these lips, for now they seem 

Scarce mine: so hallowed of the lips they pressed! 

Yon thicket's breath — can that be eglantine ? 

Those birds — can they be morning's choristers ? 

Can this be earth ? Can these be banks of furze ? 

Like burning bushes fired of God they shine ! 

I seem to know them, though this body of mine 

Passed into spirit at the touch of hers ! 

Theodore Watts-Dunton. 




i8 



REVELATION 

T came upon me like a 
flash of sun 
A-piercing through the 
cloudy raiment spread 
Beneath the sky : "Why, 
this is love! " I said, 
" And this is she, the 
love-appointed one." 
I know that long before 
I had love begun 
To turn my heart to her ere I had read 
Its timorous path ; and so the sun had sped 
Behind the threatening veil the clouds had spun. 
Oh, who can tell the rapture of the thought 
That some one sitteth, murmuring my name 
Even as I murmur hers ? So love hath brought 
Our souls into the compass of one frame; 
We are twin spirits in one body caught, 
Two sister sparks of God's eternal flame. 

Hugh McCulloch, Jr. 




19 



NATURE HATH CROWNED THEE 

ATURE hath crowned 
thee with her fairest crown ; 
Men call thee beautiful in 
form and face, 
I Praise thy dark eyes, thy 
jtresses golden-brown, 
[Thy stately height, thy 
figure's buoyant grace. 
I see these charms, but 
with another sight, 
As symbols of a charm still unexpressed ; — 
See in their loveliness thy spirit's light [confessed. 
Burning through clouds, — half hidden, half- 
Should I have loved thee hadst thou been less fair? 
Vain question ! for thy beauty is thine own — 
Thine own — thy self : 't is because thou art there 
That all thy grace to fuller grace has grown. 
Thy spirit made thee beautiful, and still 
It moulds thy form and features to its will. 

Edmond Holmes. 




20 



I THINK YOU NEVER WERE OF 

EARTHLY FRAME 

THINK you never 
were of earthly frame, 
O truant from some 
charmed world unknown ! 
A fairy empress, you 
forsook your throne, 
Fled your inviolate court, 
and hither came ; 
Donned mortal vesture; 
wore a woman's name; 

Like a mere woman, loved; and so are grown 

At last a little human, save alone 

For the wild elvish heart not Love could tame, 

And one day I believe you will return 

To your far isle amid the enchanted sea, — 

There, in your realm, perhaps remember me, 

Perhaps forget; but I shall never learn ! 

I, loveless dust within a dreamless urn. 

Dead to your beauty's immortality. 

William Watson. 




21 



THE WOMAN APHRODITlfi 

MARK you coming the 
accustomed way, 
As light of grace, your 
head uplift and high, 
Gray subtlety of flame in 
either eye. 

Your hair blown golden 
by the windy spray ; 
And bright about you, 
darting with the play 
Of beams of tint most delicate and shy, 
A light such as above the eastern sky 
Heralds the day-spring and adorns the day ; 
Such crown as, when the gates of June unclose, 
Plays like the veil of rose about the rose ; 
A snare, of grain so delicate, so mighty. 
Not Ares, not Adonis might prevail. 
Thou art the goddess of the golden veil, 
Mistress of men, the woman Aphrodite. 

Philip Savage. 




22 



LOVE'S RECKONING 

F Death should come to 
me to-night, and say, 
" I weigh thy destiny ; 
behold I give 

One little day with this thy 
Love to live 
Then, my embrace ; or 
leave her for alway. 
And thou shalt walk a full 
array of years; 
Upon thee shall the world's large honours fall, 
And praises clamorous shall make for all 
Thy strivings rich amends." If in my ears 
Thou saidst, "I love thee!" I would straightway cry 
" A thousand years upon this barren earth 
Is death without her: for that day I die, 
And count my life for it of poorest worth." 
Love's reckoning is too noble to be told 
By Time's slow fingers on its sands of gold. 

Sir Gilbert Parker. 




23 



WORSHIP 

kODS, idols, fetiches of 
[wood and stone, 
[Of carven ivory and of 
beaten brass. 
They rise and fall, they 
flourish and they pass. 
Or stand disfigured in 
some desert lone; 
Creeds come and go, and 
on the sands are strown, 
And wither like the winter-shaken grass. 
And all such things are shadows on a glass 
To this one love which I for you have known. 
For in my pagan heart I hold you dear. 
More than a miser might his store of gold. 
Or shipwrecked tar the rescuing sail unfurled. 
In my religion you are worship here 
Beyond all gods or temples manifold — 
The sole and only woman in the world. 

Ernest McGaffey. 




24 



LOVE'S CALENDAR 

TAKE no heed of month, 
or week, or day, 
Or of the times and 
seasons of the year. 
Springtime it is with me 
when she is near, 
And winter when the 
clouds of absence stray 
Across my heaven, 
holding its sun at bay. 
The morning dawns when her dear eyes appear, 
And night shuts down upon me, blank and drear, 
When those consoling orbs are taken away. 
As earth is gladdened when the snows depart. 
When woods and meadows are no longer bare, 
But tender blossoms nestle in the grass. 
So when my Love approaches, to my heart 
Her balmy breath brings floods of summer air, 
And fresh flowers spring where'er her footsteps pass. 

Owen Innsley. 




25 



BODY AND SOUL 




Thou my Love, love first 
my lonely soul ! 
Then shall this too un- 
worthy body of mine 
Be loved by right and 
accident divine. 
Forget the flesh, that the 
pure spirit's goal 
J May be the spirit; let that 
ystand the whole 
Of what thou lov'st in me. So will the shine 
Of soul that strikes on soul make fair and fine 
This earthy tenement. Thou shalt extol 
The inner, that the outer lovelier seem. 
Remember well that thy true love doth fear 
No deadlier foe than the impassioned dream 
Should drive thee to him, and should hold thee near- 
Near to the body, not the soul of him. 
Love first my soul and then both will be dear. 

Richard Watson Gilder. 



26 



BODY AND SOUL 



II 




jUT, Love, for me thy 
jbody was the first. 
'One day I wandered idly 
through the town, 
Then entered a cathedral's 
silence brown 
Which sudden thrilled 
^with a strange heavenly 

)urst 
iOi lights and music. Lo 
that traveller durst 

Do nothing now but worship and fall down. 
He thought to rest, as doth some tired clown 
Who sinks in longed-for sleep, but there immersed 
Finds restless vision on vision of beauty rare. 
Moved by thy body's outer majesty 
I entered in thy silent, sacred shrine : 
'T was then, all suddenly and unaware, 
Thou didst reveal, O maiden Love ! to me. 
This beautiful, singing, holy soul of thine. 

Richard Watson Gilder. 



27 



THE AFTERMATH 

T was late summer, and 
the grass again 
Had grown knee-deep, — 
we stood, my love and I, 
Awhile in silence where 
the stream runs by ; 
Idly we listened to a 
plaintive strain, — 
A young maid singing to 
her youthful swain, — 
Ah me, dead days remembered make us sigh. 
And tears will sometimes flow we know not why ; 
" If spring be past,'' I said, " shall love remain ? " 
She moved aside, yet soon she answered me. 
Turning her gaze responsive to mine own, — 
" Spring days are gone, and yet the grass, we see, 
Unto a goodly height again hath grown ; 
Dear Love, just so love's aftermath may be 
A richer growth than e'er spring-days have known/' 

Samuel Waddington, 




28 



LET ME BELIEVE 

ET me believe you, Love, 
or let me die ! 
If on your faith I may not 
rest secure, 
Beyond all chance of 
peradventure sure. 
Trusting your half 
avowals sweet and shy, 
As trusts the lark the 
pallid, dawn-lit sky. 
Then would I rather in some grave obscure 
Repose forlorn, than, living on, endure 
A question each dear transport to belie. 
It is a pain to thirst and do without, 
A pain to suffer what we deem unjust. 
To win a joy and lay it in the dust ; 
But there 's a fiercer pain, — the pain of doubt : 
From other griefs Death sets the spirit free : 
Doubt steals the light from immortality ! 

Florence Earle Coates. 




29 



A BIRD SINGS IN MY HEART 

[BIRD sings in the garden 
I of my heart, 

I And all day long I hear its 
Jcarol clear ; 

r At night it folds its gentle 
I wings so near, 
jits tender pulsings stir my 
(blood and start 
The tears within my eyes 
Ito think Love's art 
Should stay her wings with me and make so dear 
The rude wild bowers of my demesne, nor fear 
But she should find her spirit's counterpart. 
All day I go resolved and thinking how 
To make more sweet for her that garden place ; 
How I will pluck away the weeds, the rose 
Of Love to plant there for her nesting- bough ; 
How I will school my heart to every grace 
That it may be her home, her one repose. 

Irene Hardy. 




30 



JULIET AND HER ROMEO 

(WITH MR. DICKSEE'S PICTURE) 

[AKE^ this of Juliet and 
her Romeo/ 
Dear Heart of mine, for 
though yon budding sky 
Yearns o'er Verona, and 
so long ago 

That kiss was kissed ; yet 
|Surely Thou and I, 
Surely it is, whom morn- 
ing tears apart. 
As ruthless men tear tendrilled ivy down : 
Is not Verona warm within thy gown. 
And Mantua all the world save where thou art ? 
O happy grace of lovers of old time. 
Living to love like gods, and dead to live. 
Symbols and saints for us who follow them ; 
Even bitter Death must sweets to lovers give : 
See how they wear their tears for diadem, 
Throned on the star of an unshaken rhyme. 

Richard Le Gallienne. 




31 



THE LOVE-LETTER 

JHIS fluttering sheet of 
[paper, snowy white, 
A dove of Venus is, whose 
glad behest 

It is to bear my message 
on its breast 

Unto my Sweet across the 
(leagues of night. 
jAnd when beneath the 
(changing stars its flight 
Is done, then it shall find a downy nest 
Amid the laces of her gown, and rest 
Upon her bosom, dreaming of delight. 
Up then, my bird, and spread your pinions wide, 
The quest is happy, though the way be long ; 
Joy your companion is, and Love your guide. 
And hope within your heart beats ever strong ; 
Godspeed ! would I might journey at your side, 
And hear with you her lips repeat my song! 

Frederic Fairchild Sherman. 




32 



HER LETTER 

UST now a wave of 
perfume floated up 
To greet my senses, 
as I broke the seal 
Of her short letter ; 
and I still can feel 
It stir me as a saint the 
holy cup. 

The missive lies there,— 
but a few plain words : 
A thought about a song, a note of praise, 
And social duties such as free the days 
Of women ; then a thing that undergirds 
The phrases like a psalm : a line that reads — 
" I wish that you were coming ! " Why, it lies 
Upon my heart like blossoms on the skies, 
Like breath of balm upon the clover meads. 
The perfumed words soothe me into a dream ; 
My thoughts float to her on the scented stream. 

Sir Gilbert Parker. 




33 



A SOUTHERN BALCONY 

N the soft glow and 
glamour of the night 
I heard the sound of music 
down the street, 
lA girl's voice singing 
some old ballad sweet, 
A song of love 
and all of love's delight. 
Above me hung the 
moon's great blossom bright, 
And swarms of stars like bees came forth to greet 
This bloom of wonder in its blue retreat, — 
This world-flower with a bosom lily white* 
Within the plaza drowsily the purl 
Of fountains fell upon the fragrant air, 
And I, aweary of the long, hot day, 
Slumbered and dreamed ; and still that singing girl 
Sang in her balcony, — and I was there 
With you, sweetheart, a thousand miles away ! 

Frank Dempster Sherman. 




34 



LOVERS PATIENCE 

LEARN to lag behind 
my life's desire 
That I, impelled not 
rashly to despair, 
May rather guide still 
[hope to some sweet air 
Of high achievement 
[where with statelier fire, 
Nearer the stars, 
I my passion may aspire ! 
Slow-tongued Experience teaches me to bear 
On lips more patient Life's impatient prayer, 
With toiling hands to weave my dream's attire ! 
Yet, oh, when fragrant evening dims the world 
What moon-flames burn in all the lamps of dew ! 
What lonely roses lift their hearts impearled ! 
What silence waits the step and voice of you ! 
Then, then, all fails ; my empty arms outstart 
For one brief hour to crush you to my heart ! 

Arthur Upson. 




35 



DREAMS 

HEREFORE I love the 
darkness and right gladly 
I lay me down, and close 
my eyes and wait, 
Wait, wondering half 
smilingly, half sadly, 
What dreams will issue 
through the Ivory Gate. 
'Tis bliss to feel that I per- 
chance may meet her, 
And talk to her, and walk with her till morn, 
And falling low before her feet entreat her 
Till dreams at daylight-advent fly forlorn ; 
To think that ere I wake to brave the morrow 
Closed eyes may feast in rapture on her face, 
And heart forget its pain, and soul its sorrow, 
And life its labour, for some little space. 
While I, with lips half parted with delight 
Follow my lady through the halls of night. 

George Barlow. 




361 



.-^ 



SEA SONNET 

OON of my midnight ! 
Moon of the dark sea, 
Where like a petrel's 
ghost my sloop is driven ! 
Behold, about me and 
under and over me, 
The darkness and the 
waters and the heaven — 
Huge, shapeless mon- 
sters as of worlds in birth, 
Dragons of Fate, that hold me not in scope — 
Bar up my way with fierce, indifferent mirth. 
And fall in giant frolic on my hope. 
Their next mad rush may whelm me in the wave, 
The dreaded horror of the sightless deep — 
Only thy love, like moonlight, pours to save 
My soul from the despairs that lunge and leap. 
Moon of my night, though hell and death assail. 
The tremble of thy light is on my sail. 

Richard Hovey. 




37 



BETROTHED 

J FT have I seen her when 
her artless art 
Would seem to tell her 
secret to the eye ; 
lOr when her breast, 
ro'erburdened with its sigh, 
Should press to breathe 
Ithe language of the heart ; 
/And yet it was her 
jhighest joy to part 
From friend, even her dearest kin, and hie 
To solitudes of Eden-thought, and lie 
In wait for finer notes of Love ; then start 
Like frightened fawn at fancied sound of voice. 
To seek a covert, where, again alone, 
Secure, she 'd dream of him her plighted choice, 
Plead to herself the bliss she dare not own ; 
At last to end her revery in tears — 
Ideals of the long-expectant years ! 

Stephen Henry Thayer. 




38 



EPITHALAMIUM 

GO D of love and wonder f 

Ji)ho from far 

Hast draivn these fii>o together 

for thy praise 

)And their delight t do thou beset 
] their 7i>ays 

With joys and duties. May no 

errors mar 

yTheir blissful course ; more 

, blest than brightest star 
They all unconsciously thy 'twill obey* 
May they obedient spend their shining days. 
Knowing their Father^ and from ^whence they are* 
May each inspire the other to be true. 
Brave and benignant in the midst of strife; 
Mild to resign andl^aitj but strong to lift 
The burdened from the dust* Do thou renew 
Their politer and hope for a completer life 
In Love the Giver and in Love the gift* 

Mary E. Richmond. 




39 



NUPTIAL SLEEP 

j S in the dusky night I ope 
mine eyes 

And gather back my 
thoughts from idle dreams 
Thy sleeping face beside 
Ime pillowed seems, 
ISuch phantasy as in my 
[dreams did rise ; 
JAnd I a moment won- 
^dering gaze and fear 
Thy form will fade. I touch the silken hair 
Which shines about thy face, an aureole fair, 
And wonder still thou dost not disappear : 
But as I fold thee to my breast and see 
The wealth of love within thy wakened eyes, — 
As waters deep reflect the boundless skies, — 
And crush thy lips with kisses sweet to me, 
I know my bliss is real, that dreams are o'er. 
And I am thine, thou mine, forevermore ! 

Laurens Maynard. 




40 



JEALOUSY 

F to be jealous is to hope 

to gain 

Your every longing — 

make all other men 

As misty to your memory 

as when 

The shadows slip across 

a window-pane ; 

If to be jealous is to wish 

to reign 

Your one true lover, chide me once again. 
Call me as jealous as Othello then 
And all your chiding will be given in vain. 
For I am one who cannot hide my thought 
And curb my tongue and make my cheek a liar ; 
The tissue of my nature was not wrought 
Of lifeless clay, devoid of Pagan fire, 
And long in storm and anguish have I sought 
And now have found at last my Heart's Desire. 

Ernest McGaff ey. 




41 



TELL ME AGAIN 

^ELL me again, and then 
lift up to me 

Those frail white arms of 
thine and touch my face, 
And wrap me wholly in 
thine eyes' embrace, 
[Till God's sure hand runs 
Ifire round me and thee. 
Tell me again, and let thy 
[speaking be 

A faint phrased echo, delicate as lace. 

Of seas sonorous through the void of space. 

The low, lost rhythm of immensity. 

Tell me again, and where thy breasts divide 

Pillow my weariness — the breath of fall 

Shall blow crisp crimson leaves upon thy hair; 

Thy presence is as where a song has died. 

And left its memory grieving over all 

This vital solitude of autumn air. 

George Cabot Lodge. 




42 



ALL THAT I KNOW OF LOVE 

[LL that I know of love 
I learnt of you, 
[And I know all that lover 
lever knew, 

[Since, passionately loving 
Ito be loved, 

JThe subtlety of your wise 
[body moved 
My senses to a curiosity, 
1 And your wise heart 
adorned itself for me. 

Did you not teach me how to love you, how 
To win you, how to suffer for you now. 
Since you have made, as long as life endures, 
My very nerves, my very senses, yours ? 
I suffer for you now with that same skill 
Of self-consuming ecstasy, whose thrill 
(May Death some day the thought of it remove ! ) 
You gathered from the very hands of Love. 

Arthur Symons. 




43 



COMPLETION 

LOVED your body for its 
gracious might, 
Its suppleness, and for the 
ivast repose 

That were to me as per- 
fume, music, light, 
Complete in all things as 
|a perfect rose. 
I loved your heart, since it 
was utter truth, 

And felt no need to mask itself, or lie ; 

I loved it for its openness of youth. 

Which never stooped to flatter or decry. 

I loved your mind for its audacity. 

Not caring what the world might choose to think; 

Determined its own monitor to be ; 

Disdaining from frequented wells to drink. 

And all these three, which made one rounded 

I loved together, for I loved your soul. [whole, 

Hugh McCulloch, Jr. 




44 



THE FIELDS 

HEN on the hills the 

golden sunlight lies 

And apple trees are heavy 

ith the snow 
Of drifted bloom that 
shades the grass below, 
While far above are 
realms of cloudless skies ; 
When overhead the wan- 
dering swallow flies, 
And butterflies in loops of colour go ; 
Then as we wait together, do I know 
Some touch, some hint, some gleam of Paradise. 
The sweet song-sparrow from the poplar sings, 
The swaying leaves put forth their emerald shields, 
Each trembling blossom where the barred bee clings 
Its store of sweets through drowsy hours yields ; 
What sense of life, what joy that almost stings 
With you and I, there, loitering in the fields. 

Ernest McGaffey. 




45 



AFTER BUSINESS HOURS 

HEN I sit down with thee 
at last alone, 
Shut out the wrangle of 
the clashing day, 
The scrape of petty jars 
that fret and fray. 
The snarl and yelp of 
brute beasts for a bone ; 
When thou and I sit 
down at last alone, 
And through the dusk of rooms divinely gray 
Spirit to spirit finds its voiceless way, 
As tone melts meeting in accordant tone, — 
Oh, then our souls, far in the vast of sky, 
Look from a tower, too high for sound of strife 
Or any violation of the town. 
Where the great vacant winds of God go by, 
And over the huge misshapen city of life 
Love pours his silence and his moonlight down. 

Richard Hovey. 




46 



PERFECT PEACE 

E loved too perfectly 

for praise 

The spread of noon's 

sun-startled sea, 

We loved the large 

tranquillity 

Of flowing distances 

and days. 

In calm, dark sunsets 

or the blaze 

Of moonlit waves, the ecstasy 

And spacious thought of liberty 

Thrilled us in deep and silent ways. 

We loved too much for song or speech 

The stars' exalted loneliness, 

And in the tacit tenderness 

Of hearts thrown open each to each 

We found the perfect peace that brings 

A foretaste of eternal things. 

George Cabot Lodge. 




47 



AT LAST 

S the clear fountain 
sparkles on the hill 
In some flowered basin, 
at a cool, sweet height, 
Yet comes from we guess 
I not what galleried night, 
[Devious, untraced, and 
[altogether ill, — 
iSo doth my love from 
/other days distill, 
Through channels occult groping up to light, 
Deeming all labours past as thrice requite 
If once thou stoop thy hollowed hand to fill ! 
Clear eyes that bend upon my love thou hast, 
And I would have them cloudless of dismay ; 
I thank the chastenings of that cryptic past 
Where those soiled waters crept their stains away,- 
Those slandered days, whose riddle, now, at last, 
Grows plain before this fair and final day ! 

Arthur Upson. 




48 



ETERNITY FOR LOVE 

TONGUE-TIED Love, 
too slow, too poor of speech, 
What wealth of meaning 
hast thou left unsaid ; 
What longing looks all 
blindly left unread 
Until the well-beloved 
is out of reach ! 
[And though love's in- 
tuition lend to each 

A clew whereby he cannot be misled, 

How oft the opportunity is fled 

Ere willing hand can do what heart may teach ! 

Surcharged regret, thy self-reproach forbear 

Couldst wish love's every duty fully done, 

No further use for fond affection's care ? 

On short-lived earth the work is scarce begun ; 

And bounteous heaven hath endless days to spare 

For service to thy best beloved one. 

Warren Holden. 




49 



LIFE AND DEATH 

TRONGER than life is 
death, for all things die. 
Stronger than death is life, 
for death is nought. 
Life, — what is life ? A 
flash that streaks the sky. 
Death, — what is death ? 
A name, a haunting thought. 
Stronger than life is death, 
for death subdues 

Life's flaring torchlight with its argent rays. 

Stronger than death is life, for life renews 

Through death the fire springs of its vanished days. 

Stronger than life is love, for love's warm breath 

Kindles and keeps aglow life's myriad fires. 

Stronger than death is love, for love through death 

Kindles a larger life when life expires. 

Life, — what is life ? Love's foreglo w in the skies. 

Death, — what is death? Love dawning on our eyes. 

Edmond Holmes. 




50 



i 



Ill 



51 




HE past walks here, 
noiseless, unasked, alone ; 
Knockers are silent, and 
beside each stone 
Grass peers,unhamied by 
lagging feet and slow 
That with the dawn and 
dark pass to and fro, 
iThe Past walks here, un- 
seen forevermore. 
Save by some heart who, in her half closed door, 
Looks forth and hears the great pulse beat afar, — 
The hum and thrill and all the sounds that are, 
And listening remembers, half in fear, 
As a forgotten tune re-echoes near. 
Or from some lilac bush a breath blows sweet 
Through the unanswering dusk, the voiceless 
street, — 

Looks forth and sighs,— with candle held above,— 
" It is too late for laughter, — or for love." 

Virginia Woodward Cloud. 



"YOUR LOSS SHALL BE GAIN" 

LITTLE girl I might 
have loved, and won, 
And cherished through 
the many changing years, 
I seek you where you 
hide, behind the tears 
Within a woman's eyes 
— and long to run 
And lure you out to laugh 
and play in the sun. 
Till you forget, and childhood reappears. 
And yet I would not change what pains and fears 
And strong pure will that conquers shame, have 
done. 

For who can dare to count the wondrous sum 
Of perfect love hid in a woman's heart 
Grown strong through pain to know love's deepest 
The years, the inevitable years, have come [lore? 
And robbed, yet given. I take all, not part. 
And love the child, yet love the woman more. 

Curtis Hidden Page. 




54 



TO LILITH 

EHIND such various 
vesture of strange dreams 
Abides my soul, I know 
not its true form ; 
Nor have I faith it is the 
thing it seems — 
Now hushed in calm, 
now crying of the storm. 
Forevermore the dreams 
are as a veil 
Of strangely wrought enchantment to my ken, 
Wherethrough my soul's eyes make my being 
Or bid me wanton with my joys again. [quail, 
I have no knowledge of the thing it is. 
Whether it be of fiend or angel born ; 
This much I know, beloved, only this : 
Beneath thy touch, of all its power shorn. 
It yields glad captive to the joy that lies 
Sweet on thy ruining lips and laughing eyes. 

William Carman Roberts. 




55 



FAITH AND FATE 

O horse, my dear, and out 

into the night! 

Stirrup and saddle and 

away, away ! 

Into the darkness, into the 

affright. 

Into the unknown on our 

trackless way ! 

Past bridge and town 

missiled with flying feet, 
Into the wilderness our riding thrills ; 
The gallop echoes through the startled street, 
And shrieks like laughter in the demoned hills ; 
Things come to meet us with fantastic frown. 
And hurry past with maniac despair ; 
Death from the stars looks ominously down — 
Ho, ho, the dauntless riding that we dare ! 
East, to the dawn, or west or south or north ! 
Loose rein upon the neck of Fate — and forth ! 

Richard Hovev. 




56 



LOVE'S PATH 

ONG parted are the 
shadows of the night, 
That bore away my 
dreams to other air. 
The cheated hours of life 
are lying bare, 
And what was far and 
fashioned out of sight 
Stark in the day is 
pitilessly bright ; 
Hypocrisy, so foul she seemeth fair, 
Walketh with pure pale blossoms in her hair, 
While Truth remains a thing of mould and blight. 
Think not mine eyes are veiled to earth's intrigues, 
That blindness led me to thee all the way. 
But long the new sands reach, the old retire. 
And many leagues have barred out many leagues, 
And all my soul speeds forth to thee to-day, 
A strong, white love, flown undismayed through fire. 

Agnes Lee. 




57 




i 



LOVE AT DEATH'S COURT 

IF Love were jester at the 
I court of Death, 
And Death the king of all, 
still would I pray, 
" For me the motley and 
the bauble, yea. 
Though all be vanity 
las the Preacher saith, 
I The mirth of Love be mine 
I for one brief breath ! '' 
Then would I kneel the monarch to obey. 
And kiss that pale hand, should it spare or slay ; 
Since I have tasted love, what mattereth ! 
But if, dear God ! this heart be dry as sand. 
And cold as Charon's palm holding Hell's toll. 
How worse, how worse ! Scorch it with sorrow's brand ! 
Haply, though dead to joy, 't would feel that coal ; 
Better a cross, and nails through either hand, 
Than Pilate's palace and a frozen soul ! 

Frederick Lawrence Knowles, 



58 



iSESSCS 



.ad 



YOUNG MEMORIES 

[LITTLE honey ! Ay, a 
little sweet, 

I A little pleasure when the 
/years were young, 
r A joyous measure trod by 
[dancing feet, 
I A tale of folly told by a 
floved tongue, — 
These are the things by 
Iwhich our hearts are wrung 
More than by tears. Oh, I would rather laugh. 
So I had not to choose such tales among 
Which was most laughable. Man's nobler half 
Resents mere sorrow. I would rather sit 
With just the common crowd that watch the play 
And mock at harlequin and the clown's wit. 
And call it tragedy and go my way. 
I should not err, because the tragic part 
Lay not in these, but sealed in my own heart. 

Wilfred Scawen Blunt. 




59 



REGRET 




HOLD it now more 

shameful to forget 

Than fearful to remember; 

if I may 

Make choice of pain, 

my Father, I will pray 

That I may suffer rather 

than regret ; 

And this dull aching at 

my heart to-day 



Is harder far to bear than when I set 

My passionate heart some golden thing to get 

And, as I clasped it, it was torn away. 

" The world is fair," the elder spirit saith, 

*' The tide flows fast, and on the further shore 

Wait consolation and surprises rare." 

But youth still cries, " The love that was my faith 

Is broken, and the ruined shrine is bare 

And I am all alone forevermore." 

Arthur Christopher Benson. 



60 



ALTHOUGH I DECKED A CHAMBER 
FOR MY BRIDE 

[LTHOUGH I decked a 
chamber for my bride 
And found a moonlit gar- 
den for the tryst 
Wherein all flowers looked 
happy as we kissed, 
iHath the deep heart of me 
[been satisfied ? 
tThe chasm betwixt our 
rspirit yawns as wide 
Though our lips meet, and clasp thee as I list 
The something perfect that I love is missed, 
And my warm worship freezes into pride 
But why — O waywardness of nature ! — why 
Seek farther in the world ? I had my choice, 
And we said we were happy, you and I, 
Why in the forest should I hear a cry. 
Or in the sea an unavailing voice, 
Or feel a pang to look upon the sky ? 

George Santayana. 




6i 



WHY DO I CLING TO THEE? 

HY do I cling to thee, 
sad love ? Too long 
I Thou bringest me neither 
pleasure to my soul 
Nor profit to my reason 
save in song, 
My daily utterance. See, 
j thy beggar's dole 
Of foolish tears cannot 
I my tears cajole; 
Thy laughter doth my laughter grievous wrong ; 
Thy anger angereth me ; thou heapest coal 
Of fire upon my head the drear night long 
With thy forgiveness. What is this thou wilt? 
Mine ears have ceased to hear, my tongue to speak. 
And naught is left for my spent heart to do. 
Love long has left the feast ; the cup is spilt. 
Let us go too. The dawn begins to break. 
And there is mockery in this heaven of blue. 

Wilfred Scawen Blunt. 




62 



IN SEPARATION 

I HE bliss that happy 
lovers dream will bloom 
i Forever new shall scarce 
I outlast the year: 
[ Their calmer kisses wake 
nor smile nor tear ; 
I Love's nesting-place al- 
1 ready is its tomb, 
[Since sated eyes grow 
[weary of their prey, 
And constant vows their own best hopes betray, 
And love's June lily, marred but by a breath, 
Falls where the other lilies lie in death. 
Therefore the doom of land and sea that bar 
My life from hers I do accept. At least 
No passion will rise jaded from the feast, 
My pure respect no passing fires can stain ; 
So without hope I love her, without pain. 
Without desire, as one might love a star. 

Edward Rowland Sill. 




63 



LOVE TURNS TO HATE, THEY SAY 

OVE turns to hate, they 
say ; and surely I 
Have cause enough to 
hate you till I die. 
Do you not hate me ? 
Must I not hate you ? 
Show me the way it 's 
done and I '11 outdo 
Your bravest. But what 's 
this ? If I surprise, 

Not tears in these inexorable eyes ? 

Ah ! by these tears, think not that we shall bring 

So dear a love to be an outcast thing. 

Love turns to hate : I would it turned to hate ! 

We were not then so wholly desolate. 

You will not let me love you ; yet now, see, 

If hate be not impossibility. 

What shall we do, O God in heaven above. 

Who cannot hate, and yet who may not love ? 

Arthur Symons. 




64 



WHEN LOVE DIES 

HEN Love dies, and the 
funeral plumes are set, 
And mourners come to 
take you by the hand 
Regard them not ; they do 
not understand 
Who bid you bless your 
sorrow and forget. 
When Love has died (if 
Love should die !) regret 
Will bind you broken in the former land. 
And warp your life with one supreme command 
To tend the dead in Love's dark oubliette. 
For you have loved, and all your life is altered ; 
And you have lost, and appetite unfed 
Will drive you seeking solace with the dead. 
Be there your life ; and know that, having faltered, 
You seek among the living folk in vain. 
For Love is dead. You shall not meet again. 

Philip Savage. 




65 



UNTIMELY LOVE 

[EACE, throbbing heart, 
I nor let us shed one tear 
O'er this late love's un- 
iseasonable glow ; 
Sweet as a violet 
blooming in the snow, 
[The posthumous offspring 
1 of the widowed year, 
iThat smells of March 
I when all the world is sere, 
And, while around the hurtling sea- winds blow — 
Which twist the oak and lay the pine tree low — 
Stands childlike in the storm and has no fear. 
Poor helpless blossom orphaned of the sun, 
How could it thus brave winter's rude estate? 
Oh Love, more helpless Love, why bloom so late, 
Now that the flower-time of the year is done? 
Since thy dear course must end when scarce begun. 
Nipped by the cold touch of untoward fate. 

Mathilde Blind- 




66 



IV 



67 



ACROSS THE YEARS 

HE old rememberable 
barn — how gray 
It loomed above the 
orchard and the spring ! — 
The orchard where the 
|robin used to sing, 
Building his nest beneath 
the blossomed spray. 
'Where are the rosebud 
maidens of that day? 
Some, like the birds, afar have taken wing ; 
Some sleep below, but memories oft they bring 
Faint as remembered odours of the hay. 
Ah, yet once more across the shadowy years 
She meets me in the gloaming ! Down the lane 
We hear the dropping of the pasture bars ; 
It is the trysting hour, and kindly stars 
Bloom in the twilight trees . . . O Love ! O Tears ! 
O Youth that was— that will not come again! 

Lloyd Mifflin. 




THE ASSIGNATION 

HE darkness throbbed 
that night with the great heat, 
And my heart throbbed at 
thought of what should be ; 
The house was dumb, the 
lock slid silently ; 
I only heard the night's 
hot pulses beat 
lAround me as I sped with 
quiet feet 

Down the dark corridors ; and once the sea 
Moaned in its slumber, and I stayed, but she 
Came forth to meet me lily-white and sweet. 
Was there a man's soul ever worth her kiss ? 
Silent and still I stood, and she drew near. 
And her lips mixed with mine, and her sweet breath 
Fanned my hot face, and afterward I wis. 
What the sea said to us I did not hear ; 
But now I know it spake of Doom and Death. 

Herbert E. Clarke. 




70 



LOVE'S WISDOM 

O W on the summit of 
love's topmost peak 
Kiss we and part ; no 
further can we go : 
'And better death than we 
from high to low 
Should dwindle or decline 
from strong to weak. 
We have found all, there 
is no more to seek ; 

All have we proved, no more is there to know ; 

And Time could only tutor us to eke 

Out rapture's warmth with custom's afterglow. 

We cannot keep at such a height as this ; 

For even straining souls like ours inhale 

But once in life so rarefied a bliss. 

What if we lingered till Love's breath should fail ! 

Heaven of my earth ! one more celestial kiss 

Then down by separate pathways to the vale. 

Alfred Austin. 




71 



AT PARTING 

H, all too well beloved, 
at last I know 
That for us two the part- 
ing of the ways 
Has come, and brought 
the ending of sweet days. 
Bid me good-bye, and 
\loose my hand, and go. 
'o-day's fair peak we ran 
to climb, and low 
Before us, glowing in our last sun's rays, 
The path slopes down, nor undivided stays; 
The path slopes down, but separate and slow. 
Henceforward you and I alone must fare. 
Nay, look not all so sad ! Was ever done 
A deed to merit all that we have won 
Of joy? I tell you, there are those whose prayer 
Is nightly on their knees that they might bear 
Our shadow, could they but have known our sun ! 

Josephine Daskam. 




7a 



RELINQUISHMENT 

'HE hardest gift that any 
man can give 
Is to give back the heart 
he wins in vain ; 
To yield with grace 
[what he may not retain 
When low consent turns 
Ipleading negative ; 
JTo slip the latch where 
[joy had come to live — 
Sweet singing Joy, that with so dear disdain 
Flooded with melody its small domain, 
It seemed love could for liberty retrieve. 
But liberty weighed more than love's exchange, 
And such a longing did the song betray. 
Regretful, tender ; tender, appealing, strange — 
What could the soul of any captor say ? 
Go, beauteous, winged, singing Joy, go range ; 
Your cage is open, little bird, away ! 

Marshall lUsley. 




73 



FARE YOU WELL, JOY 

O W fare you well, my 
joy, that would not stay ; 
Count it as nothing I 
besought you so. 
The place is dim, the 
needy fire burns low ; 
Go hand in hand with the 
unheeding day. 
It is mine own heart's 
fault that must alway 
Nest on the edge of all the winds that blow. 
Forgetful that there comes a day of snow ; 
Forgetful that the young year must grow gray. 
But joy 's so rare that it has taught me thrift ; 
No moth lays waste my rich remembering ; 
And I may see, with quiet eyes uplift, — 
Some even, when the fire takes heart to sing, — 
The dusk all white with petalled snow adrift 
Like the dear ghost of young unburied Spring. 

Josephine Preston Peabody. 




74 



FRIENDSHIP BROKEN 

E chose the faint chill 
morning, friend and friend, 
Pacing the twilight out 
beneath an oak. 
Soul calling soul to 
judgment; and we spoke 
Strange things and deep 
as any poet penned. 
Such truth as never truth 
again can mend. 
Whatever arts we win, what gods invoke ; 
It was not wrath, it made nor strife nor smoke : 
Be what it may, it had a solemn end. 
Farewell, in peace. We of the self-same throne 
Are foemen vassals ; pale astrologers. 
Each a wise sceptic of the other's star. 
Silently, as we went our ways alone, 
The steadfast sun, whom no poor prayer deters, 
Drew high between us his majestic bar. 

Louise Imogen Guiney. 




75 



MEETING 
CHANGE 



AFTER ABSENCE AND 




AN I indeed be I, and you 
be you, 

Happy yet parted ? This 
far stranger seems 
jThan all the wild imagin- 
lings of dreams, 
And yet your face that 
once so well I knew 
Smiles through the whirl- 
ing darkness — yes 'tis true! 
The past is past — and memory without pain 
Wakes as I feel my hand in yours again 
And pictures in my mind our last adieu. 
With trembling voice, cold hand, and paling cheek 
You said good-bye at sunset — and alone 
Went stumbling down the hill to meet the night, 
And I — I watched the ever- fading light 
And felt my heart slow turning into stone 
And waved the last farewell I could not speak. 

Lilla Cabot Perry. 



76 



77 



FLOWER OF THE CLOVE 

[7H, Love, have pity!— I 
am but a child; 
I ask but light and laugh- 
ter, and the tears 
Darken the sunlight of 
my fairest years. 
By Love made desolate, 
by Love beguiled, 
I waste the spring. Love's 
harvest wains are piled 
With poppies and gold grain — I glean but fears 
Of empty hands, grim hunger, and the jeers 
Of happy wives whose loves are reconciled. 
But mine! Ah, mine is like a tattered leaf 
Upon a turbid stream. I have no pride, 
No life, but love, which is a bitter grief. 
As a lost star I wander down your sky. 
Give me your heart. Open it wide — so wide ! 
I must have love and laughter, or I die. 

Helen Hay Whitney. 




PENELOPE 

[EN ELOPE sat weaving 
fall the day 

Her web ; and I weave 
Jmine of tender thought, 
I And many a quaint device 
jby me is wrought 
[Of Fancy's golden threads. 
[What will he say 
I when he shall come? 
I Will he entreat and pray 
To see the legend ? Will his heart be taught 
By it ? Night comes and brings me naught ; 
I must unweave : Ulysses is away, 
But when my hero shall at last have come, 
And his dear eyes have proved my colours true, 
I wonder will my stammering lips be dumb. 
My heart's great love unspoken ? Then must you, 
Dear woven thing, keep eyes and blushing cheek 
To tell him all I feel, but cannot speak. 

Ella Dietz Clymer. 




80 



NOCTURNE 

[PEAK softly, Sweet, and 
bid the lutes play low ; 
I Let the low laughter live 
ibut in your eyes ; 
JDusk be the air and dim 
[where, spirit- wise, 
I Move we in noiseless 
jpassage to and fro. 
[One lies asleep beside the 
^fountain's flow. 
Lulled by the murmurous water's fall and rise ; 
Him may we not awake to other guise 
Than this still shape that doth not hear or know. 
Fair on the borders of a dream he lies. 
Loth to let slip the ways by which he came. 
Stilling each sense that seeks the world of men. 
Hush, Sweet ! — no whisper — nay, no speech of eyes- 
Lest, roused at last by mention of his name. 
Love shall awake that will not sleep again. 

Jeannette Bliss Gillespy. 




8i 



CONFESSION 

ELIEVE me, dear, un- 
yielding though I be, 
Ambitions flourish only in 
the sun — 

In noisy daylight every 
Irace is run, 

I With lusty pride for all the 
iworld to see. 

^hen darkness sinks the 
iearth in mystery ; 
When eye or ear or sight or sound is none, 
But death, a tide that waits to bear us on, 
And life, a loosening anchor in the sea. 
When time and space are huge about the soul, 
And ties of custom lost beyond recall. 
And courage as a garment in the flame, 
Then all my spirit breaks without control, 
Then the heart opens, then the hot tears fall 
To prove me wholly woman that I am. 

Dora Read Goodale. 




82 



THE HOUR 

HE slow, sweet hour that 
shrines the setting sun, 
Or that which broods 
above the summer noon 
Perfect in golden beauty 
— gone too soon 
After its vanished sisters ! 
or the one 

Long looked for, when the 
meavy day is done, 
That comes, dim-lighted by the rising moon, 
And fragrant with the roses born to June, 
To whisper sorrow past and joy begun ; 
Nor these, nor any, do I name the best ; 
But if an hour shall dawn that sees us meet. 
That brings us close, thou, all unknown, yet mine. 
Stranger, yet most myself ! above the rest — 
Above that hour which sees us at Love's feet — 
I '11 set it, token of the Power Divine. 

Hildegarde Hawthorne. 




83 



LOVE, DEATH, AND ART 

|ORD, give me Love ! 
[give me the silent bliss 
lOf meeting souls, of an- 
swering eyes and hands ; 
IThe comfort of one heart 
[that understands ; 
I The thrill and rapture of 
[Love's sealing kiss. 
[Or grant me — lest I 
(weary of all this — 
The quiet of Death's unimagined lands, 
Wherein the longed-for Tree of Knowledge stands. 
Where Thou art, Lord — and the great mysteries. 
Nay, let me sing, my God, and I '11 forego. 
Love's smiling mouth. Death's sweetlier smiling 
Better my life long mourn in glorious woe, [eyes. 
Than love unheard in a mute Paradise — - 
For no grief, no despair, can quail me long. 
While I can make these sweet to me in song. 

A. Mary F. Robinson. 




84 



DIVINITY 

Y silences are not my 
own, for lo 

Thy speech is in them 
always ; I abide 
In waiting for thee, 
as the eventide 
Expects the dew ; 
and that thou art, I know, 
And what thou art I 
know not, but I go 
Hearing thy voice always, far and wide. 
Strange in its bidding, not to be denied, 
Deeper than thought, since thou wilt have it so. 
For when my thoughts are silent every one. 
Like vanished rain, and all my heart is bare 
Of any wistful dream that comes and goes. 
Thy speech falls on me subtle as the sun. 
And I receive thee as the summer air 
Is touched with the slow blooming of the rose. 

Anna Hempstead Branch. 




85 



OH, FOOLISH DREAM 

[H, foolish dream, to hope 
that such as I 
[Who answer only to thine 
easiest moods 
(Should fill thy heart, as 
I o'er my heart there broods 
The perfect fulness of thy 
.memory! 

I flit across thy soul as 
[white birds fly 
Across the untrodden desert solitudes : 
A moment's flash of wings ; fair interludes 
That leave unchanged the eternal sand and sky. 
Even such to thee am I ; but thou to me 
As the embracing shore to the sobbing sea, 
Even as the sea itself to the stone-tossed rill. 
But who, but who shall give such rest to thee ? 
The deep mid-ocean waves perpetually 
Call to the land, and call unanswered still. 

A. Mary F. Robinson. 




86 



A DESIRE 

ET me not lay the lightest 
feather's weight 
Of duty upon Love. 
Let not, my own, 
The breath of one 
reluctant kiss be blown 
Between our hearts. 
I would not be the gate 
That bars, like some 
inexorable fate, 
The portals of thy life ; that says, " Alone 
Through me shall any joy to thee be known.*' 
Rather the window, fragrant early and late 
With thy sweet, clinging thoughts, that grow and twine 
Around me, like some bright and blooming vine : 
Through which the sun shall shed his wealth on thee 
In golden showers; through which thou may'st look out 
Exulting in all beauty, without doubt. 
Or fear, or shadow of regret from me. 

Susan Marr Spalding. 




87 



LOVE'S MASTERY 

I Y love must love be 
jmastered, fire by fire, 
Passion by passion. 
When the heart grows warm, 
Its flame must quench the 
flame of its desire, 
Its new-found strength 
must quell the gathering 
jstorm. 
I Not law, not duty, not the 

warning voice 

Of saint or angel keeps love's compass true : 

Reckless of fate, love makes its fateful choice : 

To love alone is love's allegiance due. 

Love's power alone can make love's passion pure; 

Love's voice alone can bid love's tumult cease ; 

Love's pain alone can make love's bliss endure ; 

Love's fire alone brings to love's fever peace. 

O Love ! inflame my heart, and set it free 

From every wild unhallowed dream of thee. 

Edmond Holmes. 




88 



AMBITION 

|0 have enriched his life 

by one sweet hour ; 

By one glad hope to have 
lo'ergilt his gray ; 
[Chased but one darkening 

shadow from his day ; 

To his long winter given 

one single flower ; 

And bride-like to have 
'brought him but the dower 
Of one brief moment's bliss, which would not stay 
But even as he clasped it fled away 
And left behind not e'en a memory's power ; 
To know that once, through me, he drained delight ; 
That once, because of me, his earth was heaven ; 
And in the compass of one day or night 
By gift of mine was infinite rapture given ; — 
O crowned reward ! O rich indemnity ! 
Paying life, death, and all eternity. 

Grace EUery Channing. 




89 



DREAMS THE FASTING NUN 

IS dreams the fasting nun 
of Paradise, 
And finds her gnawing 
[hunger pass away, 
[In thinking of the happy 
[bridal day 

JThat soon shall dawn 
(upon her watching eyes ; 

Jo, dreaming of your love, 
i/do I despise 
Harshness or death of friends, doubt, slow decay, 
Madness, — all dreads that fill me with dismay 
And creep about me oft with fell surmise. 
For you are true, and all I hoped you are, 
O perfect answer to my calling heart ! 
And very sweet my life is, having thee. 
Yet must I dread the dim end shrouded far ; 
Yet must I dream: should once the good planks start. 
How bottomless yawns beneath the boiling sea ! 

A. Mary F. Robinson. 




90 



LET ME NOT BE TOO SURE 

ET me not be of life's 
bequest too sure, 
Nor hazard on a frail to- 
morrow's light, 
But answering day's be- 
hest forget its lure, 
Lest there shall rise no 
stars upon my night ; 
Let me not rest on joy's 
improvidence, 
Nor build upon the fabric of a dream. 
Nor time's irrevocable coin cast hence. 
However near its fair fulfilment seem ; 
Thou, who alone hast ward of certainties. 
Let me not spend of gift or grace too soon. 
Nor squander any sweet that therein lies, 
But for high service keep the utmost boon. 
Lest I shall be too sure, — or seek to prove. 
And break the alabaster box of love ! 

Virginia Woodward Cloud. 




91 



REWARD 

[LL they who walk in joy 
or in despair 

[The ways of life, through 
[shadow and through light, 
[Ask for some boon, some 
guerdon, some delight, 
JTo crown their living. 
Tempted by the glare 
Some seek but gold ; for 
ifame some greatly dare ; 
While nobly others toil to help the right, 
To strengthen truth, to gain a finer height 
Of wisdom. But to me this seems most fair 
And above all life's gifts I would choose this : 
That one with Love's deep voice should turnand say, 
When night drew down and it was time to rest: 
"Sweet, you have helped me," bending down to kiss 
My clinging hands, "and but for you the way 
Would have been barren — you have made it blest." 

Hildegarde Hawthorne. 




92 



HER PROTEST 

HRONE me not so apart, 
my poet-king, 
Nor on so high a dais — 
see, I reach 

Impotent arms of yearning 
• — while you sing 
Your fealty, we are 
distant each from each. 
Build me no altars, 
O my worshipper ! 
Here in the cloistered church's dim alcove 
You heap my shrine with frankincense and myrrh 
And stifle me for lack of simple love. 
And set me not to be your guiding-star 
Beyond the spaces where the heavens unfold. 
Who knows but many a light that comes so far 
Has left its source long since burnt out and cold ? 
Not Queen, Saint, Star — let me be none of those, 
But just your human love, held close, held close. 

Curtis Hidden Page. 




93 



WITH MUSIC 

JHEAR, did we meet in some 
3k] dim yesterday ? 

I half remember how the 

birds were mute 

Among green leaves and 

tulip-tinted fruit, 

And on the grass, beside a 

stream, we lay 

In early twilight ; faintly, 

far away, 

Came lovely sounds adrift from silver lute, 

With answered echoes of an airy flute, 

While Twilight waited tiptoe, fain to stay. 

Her violet eyes were sweet with mystery. 

You looked in mine, the music rose and fell 

Like little, lisping laughter of the sea; 

Our souls were barks, wind wafted from the shore — 

Gold cup, a rose, a ruby, who can tell ? 

Soft — music ceases — I recall no more. 

Helen Hay Whitney. 




94 



MY HEART'S ASTRONOMER 

|S Dante's soul uplifted, 

whiter grew 

When thinking Beatrice's 

prayer would be 

For his ennobling, so mine 

turns to thee, 

My heart's astronomer, to 

find the clue 

To guiding stars yet hidden 

from my view, 
But risen to thine. The clouded orbs I see 
Through mists of earth, barely suffice to me 
To show the devious path I still pursue. 
Could I conspire with the archangel there 
Before my heart's flamed-guarded paradise ! 
Fear not, sweet spirit; I should walk unshod 
Its ways, and kneeling where thou kneeVst at 
If I should hear my faltered name, arise [prayer, 
Assured of life, of love, of thee, of God. 

Irene Hardy. 




95 



SURRENDER 

'AKE all of me — I am 
thine own — heart, soul, 
Brain, body — all; all that 
I am or dream 
Is thine forever; yea, 
though space should teem 
With thy conditions, I 'd 
fulfill the whole — 
Were to fulfill them to be 
loved of thee. 
Oh, love me ! — were to love me but a way 
To kill me — love me ; so to die would be 
To live forever. Let me hear thee say 
Once only, " Dear, I love thee '' — then all life 
Would be one sweet remembrance, — thou its king : 
Nay thou art that already, and the strife 
Of twenty worlds could not uncrown thee. Bring, 
O Time ! my monarch to possess his throne. 
Which is my heart and for himself alone. 

Am^lie Rives. 




96 



i 



FORESHADOWED 

HAT ? Thou art jealous 
of my past, while yet 
I was unknown to thee, 
Iwhile my first years 
'Were sweet without thee, 
and with my own tears. 
Not thine, Beloved, my 
young eyes were wet ? 
But I can tell thee that 
before we met 
Thy splendour dropped athwart those golden spheres 
Which were my childhood. All my joys and fears 
Were strangely double. I shall not forget 
That look I loved so in my mother's eyes. 
Her glance I think did so contain thine own 
I felt a dim foreshadowing cast on me 
And read thy star concealed amid her skies. 
I cannot remember that first look alone 
Without some reminiscences of thee. 

Anna Hempstead Branch. 




97 



POSTPONEMENT 

I E great hours that are few 
[and full of love, 
j I see you as you rise 
supremely fraught, 
' Out of the darkened pool 
[that is my thought, 
I Into the silver heaven 
[spread above. 
^Rise and be glorified 
las ye remove. 
From human bondage ye should not be sought, 
Nor evermore by my volition brought 
From regions where your perfect periods move. 
O lesser moments, smooth your petty way 
As 't were a blessed prairie for my feet. 
So that my steps shall linger not nor stay 
Until the day when time shall show the road 
Leading sublime where blisses lost and sweet 
Hold the high heaven in their divine abode ! 

Florence Brooks. 




98 



VI 



99 




IRENOUNCEMENT 

MUST not think of thee; 
and, tired yet strong, 
I shun the love that lurks 
in all delight — 
The love of thee— and in 
the blue Heaven's height, 
And in the dearest pas- 
sage of a song. 
Oh, just beyond the sweet- 
est thoughts that throng 
This breast, the thought of thee waits hidden, yet 
But it must never, never come in sight; [bright; 
I must stop short of thee the whole day long, 
But when sleep comes to close each difficult day. 
When night gives pause to the long watch I keep, 
And all my bonds I needs must loose apart, 
Must doff my will as raiment laid away, — 
With the first dream that comes with the first 
I run, I run, I am gathered to thy heart, [sleep 

Alice Meynell. 




THE OLD PATH 

LOVE! OLove! this 
way has hints of you 
In every bough that stirs, 
in every bee, 

Yellow and glad, droning 
'the thick grass through, 
In blooms red on the 
bush, white on the tree ; 
And when the wind, just 
now, came soft and fleet. 

Scattering the blackberry blossoms, and from some 

Fast darkening space that thrush sang sudden sweet. 

You were so near, so near, yet did not come ! 

Say is it thus with you, O friend, this day ? 

Have you, for me that love you, thought or word? 

Do I, with bud or bough, pass by your way ; 

With any breath of brier or note of bird ? 

If this I knew, though you be quick or dead. 

All my sad life would I go comforted. 

Lizette Woodworth Reese. 




102 



.^j 



MOONLIGHT 

HE fifers of these 
amethystine fields, 
\A/^hose far fine sound the 
night makes musical, 
Now while thou wak'st 
and longing would'st recall 
Joys that no rapture of 
remembrance yields. 
Voice to thy soul, lone- 
sitting deep within 
The still recesses of thine ecstasy. 
My love and my desire, that fain would fly 
With this far-silvering moon and fold thee in. 
But not for us the touch, the clasp, the kiss. 
And for our restlessness no rest. In vain 
These aching lips, these hungering hearts that 
Toward the denied fruition of our bliss, [strain 
Had Love not learned of longing to devise 
Out of desire and dream our paradise. 

Charles G. D. Roberts. 




103 



ON A PRESSED FLOWER 

^S Keats* old honeyed 
volume of romance 
I oped to-day to drink its 
jLatmos air, 
[l found all pressed a 
white flower lying where 
The shepherd lad watched 
Pan's herd slow advance. 
Ah, then what tender 
memories did chance 




To bring again the day, when from your hair, 

This frail carnation, delicate and fair. 

You gave me, that I now might taste its trance. 

And so to-day it brings a mellow dream 

Of that sweet time when but to hear you speak 

Filled all my soul. What waves of passion seem 

About this flower to linger and to break. 

Lit by the glamour of the moon's pale beam 

The while my heart weeps for this dear flower's sake. 

William Stanley Braithwaite. 



104 



REMEMBRANCES 

HERE is such power 
even in smallest things 
To bring the dear past 
back; a flower's tint, 
A snatch of some old song, 
the fleeting glint 
Of sunbeams on the wave, 
— each vivid brings 
The lost days up, as from 
^the idle strings 
Of wind-harp sad a breeze evokes the hint 
Of antique tunes. A glove which keeps imprint 
Of a loved hand the heart with torture wrings 
By memory of a clasp meant more than speech ; 
A face seen in the crowd with curve of cheek 
Or sweep of eyelash our woe's core can reach. 
How strong is love to yearn and yet how weak 
To strive with fate, the lesson all things teach, 
As of the past in myriad ways they speak. 

Arlo Bates. 




105 




A NIGHT PRAYER 

GOD, O perfect Love, I 
pray thee care 
For him because it is for- 
bidden me. 

Grant that his sleep may 
soft and hallowed be, 
Because these prayer- 
clasped hands may never 
dare 

To smooth nor bless his 
bed. Close with thy rare. 
Caressing peace his weary-star eyes. Free 
From other ward some angel-guard, that he 
May keep the dark watch that I may not share. 
Greet with thy new day's joy his waking soul, 
Inspire him lest in weariness he slip 
Upon the day's descent. Grant me the bliss 
Of praying for him ; — Lord, take thou a coal 
From out thy altar fire, and on the lip 
That I may never touch lay thou its kiss. 

Elizabeth Hale Oilman. 



io6 



THE AWAKENING 

AST night your name 
stole softly, ere I knew, 
Into the tangled meshes of 
my prayer : 

As when a patient hand 
with tenderest care 
On silken skein is laid, it 
deftly drew 

The threads to place, till all 
within me grew 
Strangely at rest. Ah, then I was aware 
How through the chaos thrilled me wondrous fair 
The word that darkness and disorder slew ! 
When first I saw your face I knew you mine. 
Yet was I wilful, while my life became 
Confused, disordered, nor could I divine 
The cause — till, lo, this whisper of your name ! 
Straightway confusion vanished and I saw 
Order and peace were love's eternal law. 

Lucy Leffiingwell Cable. 





I^ 


^1 






m 


Wml 


m 


Im 


m 



107 



THE AFTER-GLOW 

T is a solemn evening, 
golden clear — 
The Alpine summits 
flame with rose-lit snow, 
And headlands purpling 
on wide seas below, 
And clouds and woods 
and arid rocks appear 
Dissolving in the sun's 
own atmosphere 
And bright circumference of light, whose slow 
Transfiguration — glow and after-glow — 
Turns twilight earth to a more luminous sphere. 

heart, I ask, seeing that the orb of day 
Has sunk below, yet left to sky and sea 
His glory's spiritual after-shine : 

1 ask if Love, whose sun hath set for thee, 
May not touch grief with his memorial ray. 
And lend to loss itself a joy divine? 

Mathilde Blind. 




io8 



LOVE LIVES IN SACRIFICE 

AY; Love so lives in 
sacrifice, he could 
Be taught perchance to 
loose his highest hope — 
His hold on life — and 
dying, hail the good, 
The end to which the 
coming ages grope. 
But Love, sad Love, that 
should his all forego. 
What vision of the future were to show 
His yearning eyes ? If, looking through the years, 
He saw the generations halting past. 
More sad than ours, ay, if with rarer tears, 
And struggling onward, with no eye upcast — 
Still onward, onward, upward nevermore — 
Then Love, lost Love, would turn him from the 
To wait impatient till the end were won, [shore 
And the weird world were wrecked upon the sun! 

Emily Pfeiff er. 




log 



I 



LOSS 

lO love is given in vain — 
O Lord, receive 
This love of mine, and 
turn it into power. 
Bring strength from pain, 
fruit from the dying flower, 
And when I suffer most, 
let me believe 
No pang is useless — 
Souls that would achieve 
Must pass through joy and sorrow, sun and shower. 
Keeping strict watch, in soft enchanted bower, 
Hiding a secret hope when most they grieve. 
Love frustrate has its fair and perfect end : 
Let all my nature gather force, and move 
Like a strong river toward the eternal sea ; 
Feeling the goal through devious turn and bend 
By faith in fulness that I cannot prove. 
By hope in joy and beauty yet to be. 

Mary E. Richmond. 




no 




THE FULL HOPE 

|ORD of my life, before whose wilt I yield, 
Lo, Iwithdraiv the barriers of my pride; 
Let my heart flo'O) a Endless evening tide 
Till all the marshland of my past '5 concealed^ 
Let stillness in my ecstasy be sealed 
Deep as the swelling sea is deep and wide* 

Lord of my life, where all my dreams abide, 

Take me into thy dwelling who am healed* 

Ah Love, we shall dwell here forevermore. 

In this great dwelling of our Hope fulfilled; 

Ever the past behind us and before 

The golden future* What the gods have willed 

Of good or bad to enter at the door 

This is our dwelling till our hearts are stilled* 

William Stanley Braithwaite. 



Ill 



This edition of LATTER DAY LOVE SONNETS 
selected and arranged by Laurens Maynard consists 
of seven hundred and twenty-five copies (of which 
six hundred and seventy-five copies are for sale), 
printed for Small, Maynard & Company at The 
University Press in Cambridge, U.S.A., with dec- 
orations, borders, and initial letters designed by 
Bertram Grosvenor Goodhue. 




Auu 19 mf 



